A Poem for the Soul
by La.Tomarias
Summary: A boy reflects on the death of his godfather.
1. Poem

A/N: So I see that I have decided to write something, and a poem as that.  
Um how curious.how very curious .Ah well, this is something rather quick  
and nothing much special, only it is rather personal and after the events  
on the fifth harry potter book, then I guess this is for the ones that were  
hurt the most by the death of Sirius Black.  
This is dedicated to Snuffles_Padfoot. I share your suffering my friend.  
A Poem for the Soul  
  
Gone he is though, in the wind I hear his voice  
When the world turns out cold.  
Whispering words of advice  
His face I can't recall  
  
He is still there  
I know he watches  
He doesn't do anything  
Does he has forgotten?  
  
In the mist I can listen  
In the shore the waves crash  
I can almost hear his laughter  
Maybe he is still at heart  
  
His features dissolve into thoughts  
I try to keep them close  
But he disappears  
Why doesn't he faught?  
  
I miss the only one  
The only father  
The only brother  
The only one I ever had  
He is still at large, though he isn't near enough  
  
He is gone  
And I only wish he wasn't  
Though in the shore the waves crash  
I can almost feel his presence  
  
Another night  
Another nightmare  
I hoped it was only a dream  
But reality chose it wasn't  
  
I miss him more everyday  
Every week I fight to live  
I wish I didn't have to say this  
But deep down I'm afraid  
  
Is he gone forever?  
There are voices on the other side  
Maybe if I just move the veil  
I can look fro him inside  
  
Live, breath, and fight  
I live for his memories  
Try not to coward  
I remember his bravery  
  
I stand still  
In the shore the waves crash  
I'm most sure that is his voice  
His laughter doesn't subside  
  
He is near me now  
He hasn't leave  
He stands by me  
As in the shore the waves crash  
Remember Sirius Black 


	2. Running Dog Star

A/N So I guess it's me again, little ole moi. Firstly I want to thank all and every single one of you who reviewed the first chappie. I love you all! Secondly, to Snidget, you know your story isn't half that bad; it only needs to be beta read ;-) And thirdly, Kristopher if you ever get to read this, then please review here, there's a little box at the bottom of the page that says "SUBMIT REVIEW" , I know you won't miss it. Oh and one last thing, Mr. Sir (you know I mean you Mr. C. Oliver) as a matter of fact I liked the Eiffel Tower but I'm not obsessed with it, I didn't ask for all those photos, now leave me be; and have a good day (you know I don't actually mean to annoy teachers). Plus, another thing, those who are in Upper School, I wish you all a good week and luck with upcoming test, assignments, and homeworks; but I wish myself most luck because my teachers are clearly insane and get overly excited with schoolwork.  
  
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, names, characters, places, situations and related issues belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros, Blumsboory Books, Scholastic Inc, and Raincoast Books.  
  
The young woman stared blankly back at him through the static T.V., clearly thinking it wasn't her turn to speak yet. She finally opened her mouth after what seemed like ages, speaking in a drowsy and bored voice, "Thank you Stan. I'm standing outside the gates of the once respectable monument of the St. Bernard Hospital, which now lies in ashes." She stopped talking and blinked once, almost as though she was expecting them to take a good look at the burned landscape. "According to witness Carl Cloving, a local neighbor, he saw through his window smoke emanating from the Hospital's roof around 3 o' clock. He has lived in this neighborhood since childhood and even visited the building at a young age. He comments that never he had seen smoke coming from any of the chimneys and certainly not at this time in July. Most witness saw with astonishment how the ancient building started to burn and merely crumpled down after a few minutes. Is this an act of vandalism or something much worse?" She gave something that looked remotely like a smile. "We might never know, but feedback just arrived that the fire actually didn't start inside the Hospital, but rather something seemed to have provoked it from the outdoors. There is a theory that a telephone post might have had a high charge and one of the cables snapped, then it might have fallen on the roof. This theory however, may have some truth in it; witness say the saw red sparks, which might have been produced by the cables. Experts continue to investigate the source of this incident. Without farther ado, this is Vivian Cárdenas reporting for the CNN news. Back to you Stan" The image of the girl was replaced by one of a wizened, rather moldy looking man, who instantly started rambling about the Hospital case.  
  
A boy around 16 looked at the T.V. from his seat at the bar. He had the look of someone that hadn't sleep in a long time and the state of his clothes matched the mood of the grubby looking pub he was in. His hair had an untidy appearance and his glasses looked as though they had been smashed several times, being hold together with a bunch of scotch tape. His head was resting on his arms, his eyes looking up at the television. He sighed and tore his gaze away from the screen, picking up his glass and taking drink from it. The bar tender was looking at him sulkily from his place behind the bar where he was wiping a glass with a rag, "Are you drinkin' anything else, boy?" he grunted, "You have been here at least three hours and you've only taken water. I don't ha' time to be messin' up with woes like yourselves"  
  
The young form looked up from his glass and glared at the man. He fished through his pockets and threw a couple of coins at him, then turned back his attention on the glass. So there was another one who had called him "boy". He gave a snort and shook his head; everyone thought about him as a child, someone that needed to be protected from the vast, cruel world. His smiled bitterly. No one thought him of being capable of defending himself, no one had an idea how much older he was, no one even bothered to give him a chance to prove he was worth something. No one gave him a single, bloody chance. Ha, as far as they where concerned he was still an eleven year old, little Harry Potter, a tragic young hero. The Boy Who Lived. He gave another snort of dislike, attracting a few glances from rest of the pub but he didn't care. He had stopped caring a long while ago. What would they do anyway if he continued snorting? Accused him with his Aunt and Uncle? As if he actually mind. In fact, the mere thought that someone told them he had been in a pub was worth every piece of grounding he might get. Nah, the only reason they will bothered to scream at him was for the plain pleasure of screaming at him. They didn't care that he had been in a pub, not at all. If someone would have cared he had been away from his house at late hours of night, he must have certainly paid to see them. Not that anyone ever bothered for his sake, there was always Mrs. Weasley worrying about him as if he was one of her own sons. "But maybe", he thought, "maybe that's the reason I'm out in the dead of the night in the middle of nowhere". He shook his head and suppressed the urge to punch something. Mrs. Weasley always thought of him as her son, but he wasn't. No, he was an orphan, meaning no parents, meaning that there wasn't anyone welcoming back home when he arrived, meaning that love didn't have quite a definition in his mind. Anger, yes, lots of it; hate, of course; but not love. That word always seemed strange and distant when he came to think of it. His parents had loved him, which was something he was sure they had done. But who else? Who else had loved him in that way? His heart gave a jolt as a sudden thought crossed his mind. Sirius. Sirius had loved him in a way a godfather will love his godson. Where was he now? Harry looked around the pub, expecting him to burst out of nowhere, with a lopsided smile, his doggy lopsided smile. Reality suddenly dawned on him like a light that had been flicked on after being in darkness for so much time. Dead. Sirius Black was dead. So that was the reason he, Harry, had been outside in a pub with a television so he could watch the news without being disturbed. So he could see if from a Muggle point of view. The Hospital thing had been something he had been expecting all the while; Death Eaters having fun killing off innocent people in a Muggle Hospital, Death Eaters like Lestrange, Death Eaters who destroyed families, Death Eaters who had no feelings. Ha, they had taken all the family he had left, the only one person he had. He smiled down at his empty glass and jerked his head when he heard tapping. The old bar tender was standing in front of him, glaring "Look boy, leave now, go home, you parents must be waiting for you. Besides we are going to close" He yanked the glass out of Harry's grasp and pointed to the door. He gave one last look at the T.V., which had been turned off, and dragged his feet to the exit. As soon as he was outside, the cool night air lapped at his face, making him feel as though he was beside the ocean. He closed his eyes enjoying the sensation for a few moments before starting to walk. The dark deserted street matched his mood perfectly, he enjoyed the loneliness more than ever this days. The sky was dotted with a few tiny pinpricks here and there, twinkling down at him. He stopped beside the park walls and leaned back against the stone. He looked, up staring at the firmament expressionless until something caught his eye. A dog, there was a dog in the sky. He shook his head and looked up again. There it was, so plainly drawn with dotted star lines that it was impossible not to notice it. A silhouette of a large, shaggy dog was twinkling in the night sky. He stared at it for an eternity, then, so suddenly he thought he might have imagined it, it winked at him. He scrambled to find his balance and fell face down on the pavement. He raised his eyes up to the constellation which shook softly as though it was laughing, He turned on his back and laugh along with it too, shaking with laughing cries until he was out of breathe. He propped himself up with his elbows and stare up at the dog, twinkling brightly down at him. He didn't know how much time had passed before he heard a beeping noise that brought him back to reality. He looked down at his wristwatch which marked 5:30 a.m. His panic alarm went off at full speed as he scrambled to his feet and made a mad dash towards Privet Dive. He jumped over trashcans and rushed through shrubs and trees, barely looking up at the sky. He didn't stop until he arrived at #5 panting and clutching his side. He wasn't about to enter through the front door, nor the kitchen one. He circled the house until he was beneath his own bedroom window and griped the ivy growing on that side of the wall. It was thick enough to hold and climb up to his room. When he rolled inside through the window and ha stood up, his eyes searched the sky for the familiar dog form. It wasn't there. He leaned against the window looking up at the heavens. Angry, yes; hate, probably, love.He grinned, closing the window and laying down on the bed. Love, definitely. 


	3. Time

A/N I just thought of this today. Brand new thought, really. Patented by this brain as an angsty idea. How did I came up with it? One very beloved friend is moving away. For good. I'm going to miss him dearly, but, well, it kind of relates to the story. I did my best, I don't want it to be a crappy thing. I would really appreciate a response to this. I think it's one of the few stories that truly mean something to me. 

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Disclaimer: Harry Potter, names, characters, places, situations and related issues belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Inc, and Raincoast Books. 

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_"Tell me, what's in you mind?"_

_"Nothing really, just stuff." _

_He grinned. "Just stuff? Now, what kind of stuff would be taking up most space in your head?"_

He woke up with a start. A glance at his alarm clock told him it was well past midnight. He looked at the window; the few rays of moonlight that fought their way through the wooden boards nailed along it glimmered sharply. He flinched at the sight and quickly turned his head away. 

Remus Lupin put his head on his hands, his eyes half concealed behind his bangs. A forlorn sigh escaped his lips. It was the third time this week. Waking up in the middle of the night after having the same dream. 

Remus shook his head and lay back against the pillow. He closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to envelope him again. 

_"So, what are you doing this weekend? Up to the challenge? James and I are going to Hogsmeade, try and see what Madame Rosmerta has for a special tonight."_

_"Not today, Padfoot. Maybe some other time."_

_"Aw, come on you silly, old wolf. There's always a night to study for whatever-thingy. And, you know, I heard that Ravenclaw prefect is going to be there."_

_"I do not so know what you're talking about."_

_"Come on, Moony. Just tonight, we've got all the time in the world to study afterwards. Just a little fun, it's not going to get any of us killed."_

After a few minutes he jerked awake again, this time sweat covering his brow. Remus stood up and wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his pajama. He walked to the bathroom and stared at his reflection in the mirror. A weak-looking man stared back at him. 

_"Seriously, Moony, you look like crap. Are you sure that rabbit you ate last night didn't upset your stomach?"_

Remus looked away from the mirror. He turned on the faucet and splashed water on his face. He wasn't going to sleep for the rest of the night; there was no reason to go back to bed. 

He griped the side of the sink as a wave of dizziness passed over him. 

"Looks like December flu got me," he mumbled, raising his gaze to look at his reflection again.

Somewhere down the street a car roared past the house. Remus ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his eyes lightly. The circles under them were getting larger for the lack of sleep. 

He stepped out of the bathroom, trudging along the carpeted hallway and down to the kitchen. The clock ticked away the hours as he set himself to make a cup of coffee. 

The tiled floor felt cold under his bare feet, but he barely noticed as he turned on the old Muggle radio he had found when he moved into the house. The voice of the station man crackled a bit, the sounds of the crew clapping as he announced a singer's newly debut resounding in the background. 

Remus took a sip from his coffee and changed the station. After finding nothing interesting, he turned it off and set down his mug. He stared through the window at the road that ran in front of his house. 

He had managed to find it after sitting at the same Café everyday, skimming through the newspaper ads announcing houses. It stood lonely in an old, nearly abandoned street in the outskirts of the city. Somehow he had thought of it as a place where he could spend the rest of his lifetime, blending into its atmosphere; just another mere shadow that inhabited the old Victorian building. 

 He winced at the memory of how the salesman had looked at him in his tattered clothes when he came to ask for the price. According to him, it was a very ancient, antique, and respectful place to reside, and he couldn't quite understand why a gentleman like him would like to live in a house like this. Remus understood what he said. He still asked for the price. 

The salesman's attitude changed greatly when Remus told him he had the money to pay for it. He almost knocked himself off his feet when he had seen him take out the stuffed brown, leather wallet from his pants pocket. 

Remus smiled bitterly. Dumbledore had insisted in paying him for his "services" tending to Grimmauld Place while they set the house's affairs in order. Plus, and as much as Remus had denied, a little extra for being "one of the best teachers Hogwarts had ever seen".

Still, it seemed as a condolence prize for staying at his late friend's house after his death. He might as well have put Harry up to it, but he was still a minor, a child to be protected. 

Though, he would be expected to protect them all from Voldemort soon. 

"Poor Harry", he thought, "he blames himself for Sirius' death."

Oh poor, poor Harry. He had sulked for days, locking himself in his room for hours, not coming out even at meal times. Remus had been told that Harry's relatives didn't seem to mind in the least if he starved up there all alone by himself. That was until Mad-Eye decided to step in and reminded the Dursleys of his threat at King's Cross. They reacted pretty well to it. According to Arabella, Harry had been taking long walks at night and looked healthier than he had in the last weeks. 

"At least we can hope he doesn't do anything stupid", he said as he stared down at his empty mug. 

_"But he's being too thickhead for blaming himself as the cause of Sirius dying." _

Remus shook his head sadly. The poor boy had enough burden on his shoulders, why did there have to be another load to be added? 

He stood up suddenly, walking towards the door quickly. 

"_I don't need to be inside, I don't want to_," he thought. 

He grabbed his coat from the hook besides the entrance door and grasped the doorknob. Normally he would have preferred to stay inside at night. Any night that wasn't Full Moon. 

He braced himself and opened the door. The street was deserted but the sky was clear enough to take a walk. He locked the house and strode down the front steps and into the garden. The plants and bushes, he noticed, looked as though they hadn't been tended to in long time.  He reached the front fence and leaped clear over it. He smiled as he started to jog up the sidewalk. He had almost forgotten what if felt like to run at night. Sleep wasn't that necessary if you were a werewolf. 

He took a faster pace, jumping over the occasional dustbins. The trees of a nearby park were becoming visible as he rounded a corner. He reached it in almost no time. 

When he finally had neared a clearing between the trees, he collapsed into the leafy ground. He put his arms over his eyes and panted slightly. It had been long since he had taken a run like that. Almost since his time back at Hogwarts. _Since the Marauders time. _

A gust of wind rustled the canopy above his head, making even more leaves fall over him. It was winter already and these trees looked completely unaffected by it.

Remus watched the leaves as they fell. "_So this is the place where times stops." _he thought. 

"_If only…"_

How he wished he could stop time. Oh, how we wished so much. Go back to the time when all four of them where together. When death didn't plagued their sleep and the voices of their dead friends didn't haunt them at night. When they were all alive, when the Marauders thrived as a group of friends in the old school grounds. 

Remus rolled over to lie on his stomach, his head resting on his arms. Time couldn't be stopped; as much as he wished it would. 

"_You're an adult, for God's Sake," _he thought_, "behave like one, Remus_."

But if only time would go back, go back so that he would have stopped Sirius from going to the Ministry. I only he had known what was about to happen…

He pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes, trying to stop the tears that were threatening to fall. All of his life he had been expected to comfort everyone else in times of despair. Comfort Sirius at James and Lily's funeral; comfort Harry during third year when he told him about his parents; comfort Molly when her son had returned his jumper without a note. But there was no one to comfort him when it was his time to cry. 

He was always supposed to be the sensible one, the one to calculate the exact amount of danger Sirius and James might be getting them into with their next scheme. 

"_There isn't going to be anymore of it_," he thought as he slowly raised himself into a sitting position. "_There will be no more pranks, no more jokes with Sirius…"_

He hugged his knees close to his chest as realization dawned at him. He had known it for long, way back to James' death. They wouldn't be around anymore to talk to, to chase each other around in the Shrieking Shack. There wouldn't be any more Sirius to joke with, no more James that would study with him late into the night and still manage to understand what they were studying for, no more Peter to make him laugh with his fake imitations of Snape. 

Remus ran a hand through his hair and took a deep, shaky breathe. But it hurt the most, the thing that would always stab a knife into his heart when he thought of it, that it had all gone away with a simple curse. They had all been taken away by a spell performed by the Dark Side. 

_"You know, Moony, old boy, life doesn't end here. There's a load of things you can do now that we're off and out. Think about it! You can even ask the pretty prefect to marry you. Her parents would be proud of having a son-in-law with an expedient of clear, un-detetioned- career at Hogwarts. We all know you're the good boy, Lupin."_

He sighed and rubbed his temple, which was beginning to hurt. A noise made his head snap up. A movement behind a tree caught his eye and he stood up, his hand slowly snaking into the coat pocket for his wand.

"Who's there?" he called out.

He raised his wand and muttered a light spell. The face of Harry Potter appeared behind the tree. 

With a look of surprise, Remus lowered his wand and tucked it back into his pocket.

"Blimey, Harry, what are you doing out here at this hour?" he asked, a concerned frown appearing on his features. 

Harry looked sheepishly at his feet. "Couldn't stand the Dursleys," he said, staring at his shoelace with a sudden interest. "Besides," he looked up, "the park near Privet Drive was being vandalized by my cousin and his friends. I decided upon your advice to keep myself out of trouble." Harry smiled grimly at him. 

"Anyway, what are _you_ doing out here?" he asked bemusedly, leaning back against a tree. 

Remus sighed and propped himself once more in the ground. 

"You must be thinking me a very wrong man if I was to stay in doors in a time like this, and I don't mean the weather." He smiled weakly at the look in Harry's face. 

"It seems I wasn't the only one, was I, Harry?"

Remus looked at Harry for any reaction, the concerned frown lingering still. 

"I—I kept thinking about Sirius." He finally said. 

Remus nodded in understanding. "I see. Sit down, there's plenty of space here. No need to be ruining your back with the bark of that oak."

Harry squatted down besides the tree in, sitting in front of Remus. He rested his head back into the tree for a few moments before sighing and setting his gaze back to him. 

"He isn't going to be here anymore," he said, his voice breaking slightly, "he just—he isn't, you see?"

A knowing smile spread itself along Remus' face. "I know Harry, believe me. I know."

Harry smiled back and sighed in relief. He had almost been expecting an answer like the ones the rest of them would have. But this was Remus, his teacher and his father's best friend. Of course he knew.

After a few moments of silence, Remus took out a watch from his pocket and held it to his ear before giving it a shake. Harry's voice suddenly filled the clearing.

"It was my fault," he said determinately, "I was an idiot; I should have known that it was a trap, if I had listened to Hermione—"

"Then it was my fault too," Remus said calmly, "if I had known that it would have end up that way, I would have told Sirius to be prepared if he was going to fight. Not to mention that I should have insisted on taking Kreacher to the Ministry for an early grave."

Harry stared at him. After a while, a chuckled escaped him and he began to laugh uncontrollably, Remus merrily joining in. 

Wiping a tear from his face, Harry leaned back against the tree and crossed his arms. 

"Well, Professor Lupin, have you considered going back to Hogwarts this year?" 

Remus looked at him for a few moments before he finally said:

"I'm not going back, Harry."

The grin on Harry's face faded. "But, the Anti-Werewolf Legislation—it doesn't, I mean, Umbridge's gone. Can you—?

Remus shook his head sadly. "Harry, it's not that I can't. I don't want to. It's time to move on, and this is my way of coping with things. You need to do the same. We can't dwell on dreams and wishes. If we do, we'll forget how to live and end up losing what we have left."

For a moment, Harry thought Lupin was saying this more to himself than to him.  

"Do you understand?"

He nodded forlornly. 

"He's not coming back, Harry."

The silence that came after that lasted for minutes. That was all they needed to hear. The truth they had both known but have kept bottled up inside. 

Remus smiled slightly at him. 

"So, what's on your mind now, Potter?"

Harry looked up, startled at the abrupt cut of the silence.

He opened and closed his mouth several times before finally taking a serious expression.

"Nothing much, Lupin. Just stuff."

Remus grinned and dangled his arms over his knees. 

"I'd know that, Harry. But what could possibly be taking up so much space in you head?"

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A/N I would like to add a little dedication for one very special person.

Snidget (aka Under the Black Flag)- Thank you for being my most loyal reviewer and friend. You're one of a kind. This whole chappie is dedicated to you and you're wonderful, beautiful heart. Thanks for putting up with me during my various changing moods. (I'm sorry, but I couldn't continue the other chapter, I had to start it all over again.)


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